The Incident

Love Poetry, Poetry

Her eyes crashed
like two truck drivers
speeding down Interstate 15
with mine.

They collided.
And her blood rushed
like an ambulance
to the scene of her cheeks,
lighting the boundaries
of her embarrassment.

I stood crushed
by her loveliness.

Salsa Fresca

Love Poetry, Poetry

Her shoulder blades
dance together
as she slices a tomato.

I sit at the table
tapping my spoon to my heart beat.

Click, click.
Click, click.

Her hips sway as salt, pepper, and cilantro
meet diced tomatoes, onions, and peppers.

Click, click, click, click

The small of her back arches as
she struggles to squeeze a lemon
the way it does when I run my hand down her spine.

Clickclick, clickclick.

The tops of her shoulders become glazed with juice,
like those moments after our late nights
in July.


she stops
turns around
and frowns


Love Poetry, Poetry

when I consider Your heavens, the work
of fingers, moon and stars shine
exploding in sulfuric red dust and
mind ash spreading
into grey oblivion

when I consider Your earth, the work
of eons of patience, canyons and deserts
widen like Her eyes
at the sight of You

I wish my body could take Her
and again

when I consider the body You gave Her
that mind that fits my patchwork
my heart crushes my abdomen
and I wish for a new soul to live
up to Her’s and Your prophets’

in those moments it hurts
to have once lost
Faith in You

New World Order

Love Poetry, Poetry

I burn
the world
for you

I level
every building
as you desire

I raise
the oceans and flood
every Channel Island
every coast-side villa
every individual
ant hill

I construct in their place
a world
where your eyes are
worshipped as platters
for moonlight

la diosa Tonantzin
is jealous

turns in
her grave

Kali will never
be the same

our new world
populated by butterflies
burning in mid-flight
and transfusion is a common thing

snow storms nourish
our lives and embers
fall covering my eyes

I told you in a dream once
how thoughts of you consume
my mind as wildfire
consumes our Southern
California home

ashes converge into your image
there are pilgrimages
to your bedside and my jealousy
wipes out the world population

Dogma de Fe

Love Poetry, Poetry

Dios, nunca pensé
que me
fueras dar
vida, cariño, amor, merced. Nunca
lo sentí. Y

ahora entiendo que
es mi misión
servirte. Es mi
entendimiento que soy
un arma de fuego por ti.
Un AK-47 tirando
balas y quemaduras
por ti. Descargaré

en tu nombre,
Señor, sobre las ruedas
del mundo monocromático y
lo bañaré de colores del cielo en alba,
lo esculcaré y pintaré
mi nombre igual como el tuyo
y juntos amaremos a nuestros semejantes
como amamos hoy
los perros,
fieles a sus maestros. Soy

tu bendición y
eres el mío.

Ella lo es también.

Ella pronuncia tu nombre,
y me enseñó hablar
tu idioma,
idioma de dogma,
idioma de fe,
idioma de pálpitos
del corazón, hipo
de bebé, y repeticiones
de carros nauseabundos.
Lo bueno de la vida

es ella, y tu
y yo
lo sabemos.
Lo sabemos como
sabemos cuales muertos
ruegan por nosotros,
ruegan por sus madres,
ruegan por vidrios empañados con
carteles de cloroformo. Dios

santo y sagrado, me dijiste
en un sueño que eres
el poeta, y
te lo creí. Ahora

dime, ¿cuáles son
tus favoritas palabras?